It was Christmas’ Eve and my desire was to have Vietnamese food for dinner. My sympathetic British husband and son were happy to go along with the idea.
Every year, when Christmas or Lunar New Year is approaching, I experience homesickness for my country. It’s the kind of deep emotion that one may suppress, yet impossible to express or describe to those who are not in a similar situation.
It was dark, raining, and bitterly cold. We found a tiny and cosy restaurant, “Bonjour Viet Nam” on Rue de Thouin just down from the Pantheon in the 5th district. There are two Vietnamese restaurants in the area with the same name, same décor, and the food preparation is similar.
We were happy to sit down and get ourselves warm and comfortable. I could hear very soft Vietnamese music in the background. Immediately I recognised the heart-penetrating voice of one of my favourite Cai Luong singers of the late 60’s. When I told the owner that I appreciated Cai Luong, he was surprised, pleased, and gave me a big smile. He said that while he was a student at a French lycee in Sai Gon during the war, he was the only one who appreciated this genre of music. To me, this is equivalent to Italian opera; the stories are deeply romantic and the songs are highly dramatic.
The meal began with fried spring rolls, a mixed green salad with bean sprouts, and caramelized meat dishes. It ended with a banana desert in coconut cream and tapioca. The food at “Bonjour Viet Nam” was delicious and the hot tea contained the real sweet aroma of jasmine, most soothing on a cold night.
The owner of this restaurant, Huan, is a Buddhist, and he has been separated from his wife and children for some years. He said, “The entire country is celebrating Christmas and this makes me feel rather sad and lonely.” I sensed that the lack of a family reunion might be the real cause of his sadness. On this occasion, perhaps he was missing Viet Nam as much as I was. I told him about my children’s charity and Huan expressed his desire to help the poor people in one of the districts of Sai Gon. We felt as thought we had been friends long before this meeting.
As a Catholic country, the French take Christmas very seriously. Most shops and offices are closed early on Christmas Eve. People go to an evening church service and would have a big family meal the following day. Fresh oysters are often on the Christmas menu, and the French never dine without wine and cheese.
Small street of Paris on Christmas Eve.
For many non-Christians this is also a holiday to celebrate, each group with its own interpretation, so that the holiday means different things to different people. At least the Christmas and New Year season gives families an opportunity to be reunited, to bring each other up-to-date, and to exchange gifts. In Paris, the expatriates often get together with other expatriates, making a group that resembles a family. They would telephone family members back in their home countries and exchange greetings.
In Paris, and also throughout France, streets and buildings are brightly lit at night during December and most of January. The decorations are carefully designed and artistically assembled. Unlike the randomly mixed, busy, and over-loaded-with-objects displays of the American Christmases I had become used to, the French decorations are light, elegant, and beautiful, creating a powerful and lasting impact for the sacred holiday.
As I was longing to be in Viet Nam, I watched Christmas in Ha Noi on TV and read online newspapers. All the decorations appeared to have been put together in the most haphazard fashion in an attempted imitation of the West, yet accompanied by extremes, such as ‘Santa Claudesses’ in red mini-skirts and hats sitting on cars. Some ‘Santa Claudes’ were parading through the city on motorcycles. Very few Vietnamese understand what it’s about and the foreigners are likely to be confused at the meaning of this celebration. For the young Vietnamese, it will be the opportunity to have a good time that matters, and few are likely to care what the Christmas symbols mean.
Being a Buddhist, I do not feel about Christmas the way I do about Tet, or the Lunar New Year celebration. Christmas for me is simply an excuse to share a good time with loved ones and close friends. So, for me it was a pleasure that on Christmas Day in Paris, we had an American style Christmas meal with roasted prime rib of beef and pumpkin pie, and seven friends at the table. Our hostess, Pam, and her husband, Jim, did all the cooking. It was their turn this year. I had cooked the Christmas meal the previous year, more in the English style, with roast turkey and English Christmas pudding.
Square of the Contrescarpe, 5th district of Paris.
